Until then, Gohan's idea of girls (and women) was very simple: they may be prone to angry outbursts from time to time, but they didn't hold any grudges and were generally well meaning. This was true of his Mom and true of Videl.

Fo, though, didn't seem to fit this box he had created in his mind. She was calm and measured. She never lashed out, but seemed to keep track of every little thing that annoyed her, and when she was fed up the words she used cut to the core. She wasn't the sugar and spice he'd come to associate girls (and women) with.

"Sorry about that. I'm sure you'll take a few hits when you see her tomorrow," Fo said on their ride to her hometown.

He knew she was right. He started to wonder if the right thing to do was to stay with Videl, although on the other hand that could end with an altercation between the two girls. He did not yet know what Fo was capable of doing, but Videl would forget about the whole episode in a couple of weeks. Going along with Fo just seemed to be the right decision.

"Don't worry about it. I told you there was no need to pick me up, though," he said. He would've gotten there so much faster by flying.

"Can't say I'd rather sit through my last two classes than take long rides." She'd already told him she was an orphan and there was no one to scold her the way his Mom would. His Mom had mellowed out over the years, but if he cut class all the time he would still hear from her. "There's something odd about you, you know."

For a second, this felt like déjà vu.

"You dress like you're a rebel, but you don't have an edge at all. You attend a fancy school like Orange Star High, but you're obviously not rich. What were you even doing on our side of the town on that day you were meddling with our affairs?"

"I wasn't meddling," he said, flustered. "There was a misunderstanding, is all."

Fo nodded, ignoring what he said. "Another thing. On that day, an acquaintance of mine told me he witnessed some weirdo in a gaudy-colored cape, who proclaimed to be a defender of justice or some similar nonsense, lifting a car with one hand. He was super strong, super fast. That weirdo was you, wasn't it?"

Gohan gulped. He didn't mind being called a weirdo, but he was concerned about the future of the Great Saiyaman. How was it that people were able to figure out his real identity so easily?

". . . if my hunch was right, we really could use someone like you in the revolution."

Revolution?

"How about this? Change of plans. Forget the second part of the training. We'll go to my place instead."

In the same way his Dad used to have trouble telling the difference between male and female, Gohan often had trouble telling if a girl was trying to make a pass at him. But a girl inviting him over definitely fell into that realm . . . right?

"I have a girlfriend," he said as soon as he thought how mad Videl would really be if another unforeseen situation was added into the mix.

". . . I'm aware," Fo said, not understanding why the sudden declaration. "I've met her twice, I think."

"And my Mom said I'm not supposed to be at a girl's place unsupervised," he added, trying to build his case for why she shouldn't be taking him to her place and just go with the original plan.

Now Fo understood what he thought she was insinuating. "I'm not hitting on you, you idiot," she muttered. "I'm a lesbian."

"Oh." Gohan didn't know how else to respond. He had gathered that a lesbian was a girl who liked girls instead of guys, but he had never really met one. Besides, from the whispers he'd picked up this tidbit of information from, he was under the impression that being a lesbian was something shameful, like being divorced or . . . being left-handed? Something clicked in his head. "May I ask, is it true that all lesbians are left-handed then?"

She was quiet. It wasn't the most offensive question he could've come up with. "I'm ambidextrous, actually. But let's cut the small talk and stick to my talking points from here on out."

Gohan's idea of bad guys used to be straightforward. First there were Vegeta and Nappa ("the Saiyans," as he used to refer to them, until he realized he was also a Saiyan, if only by half of his blood). Then there was Freeza. Then there were the androids, and then of course Cell. They all wanted to kill, basically, and take over the world.

When he first started out as the Great Saiyaman, with no real threat to the entire planet, the bad guys were people who had obvious bad intentions. Like organized bank robbers, bus hijackers, and animal exploiters. Over time, though, as he crossed paths with more people, the lines became blurrier.

Was a woman who stole from a bakery because she was desperate for food a bad guy? A beggar who sneaked into a store for shelter certainly broke a law, but did he still count as a bad guy? How about an elementary school kid who bullied a kindergartner who needed to be reprimanded but maybe not thrown into jail? He had yet to make up his mind on what sort of bad guys were bad enough for the Great Saiyman to intefere with their deeds.

In the end, Gohan let Fo take him to her place, which turned out to be a four-wall compartment in the middle of a slum.

The first time he saw the mention Videl lived in, he was impressed and half-began to wonder if he was poor and didn't know it. After seeing the state of Fo's place, he was sure that even if there were luxuries that were beyond his Mom's budget, he definitely wasn't poor. He and his brother always had enough.

"Sorry about the mess," Fo said ironically. Her entire place consisted of one room that all at once was a bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, poorly furnished with miscellaneous items scattered all over the place. "But now you see why excelling in school isn't my biggest concern."

"I see." Gohan wasn't sure what the protocol was in this situation. Normally, he would compliment the host on how nice the dwelling was. A shelf of books on one wall caught his eyes. "Do you mind if I take a look?" He pointed to clarify what he was referring to.

She shrugged. "You're the guest." She grabbed a cushion and threw it at him. "Use that if you need to sit. I'll get you some tea."

The books on the shelf had titles Gohan never saw before, and some of them looked like they'd been illegally photocopied and manually stapled together. The topics largely surrounded law and politics, which he personally never dabbled in. He had a cursory interest in history, but it was science that had always fascinated him.

"Find anything you like?" she asked as she placed a tray next to him. It was the tea she promised. She was still a host after all.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, "but you seem to have a very specific interest. Hey, I'll bet if you study this in college you'd be able to teach and publish a book or two."

She snickered. "College? That's definitely something to consider." Her tone was sarcastic. "No, thanks. I have been teaching, but I'm not interested in grading papers or, for that matter, students who are only it if for the good grades. My plan is to get as many soldiers as possible for the revolution."

Gohan took a sip of his tea. It had an unusual taste, but he knew to be polite and was wise enough to keep his opinion to himself. "So . . . what is this revolution you speak of?"

She took a deep breath. "Look. I'm telling you this not because I trust you a hundred percent. I just wanted to plant a seed in you, because I think you genuinely don't know anything about this. Someday maybe, when we're ready to burn it down, you'll be fighting with us instead of with the enemy."

Burn it down?

So Gohan listened. Fo was right: he didn't know anything about what she was saying. Her world was foreign to him. The cycle and impact of poverty wasn't something he was familiar with. To think that this rundown segment of the world co-existed with the well-to-do Satan City he was familiar with.

Poor people are often treated as sub-humans, she argued. The King pretends we're all doing great and everyone is prosperous under his guidance, but the images he broadcasts are conveniently of the people who happen to be wealthy, as if the rest of us doesn't exist.

Remember that monster called Cell from several years ago? We were the last in line to receive help from his administration to re-build the city, and even then the effort was done half-heartedly. Why bother? his people asked. "They" will mess everything up on their own anyway.

She went on to tell him some the methods that she'd read that had proven to be effective in other places in the past. Poor people could die by the dozens and most everyone would go about their business as if nothing had happened, but damage some property and suddenly you'll get their attention and you'll make it to the front page.

Gohan hadn't yet committed to the cause, but he thought to offer his two cents. I would not be comfortable breaking the law. His alter ego was, after all, a hero of justice who occasionally worked with the police. He could not be the one the police went after.

But the laws are manmade, she said, and can be changed if enough people demand that change. What is the point of blindly following a law that may not be unjust in itself, but that becomes unjust when set against the unjust reality of the world?

Gohan stumbled on his words. I have never really thought about any of these before.

I never expected you to get it right away. Let's make a new deal. Take one of my books, read it, and at least try to keep an open mind. We'll go our separate ways for now, but someday when the stars align and a fire sparks, I hope to see you on the right side of the history.

When Videl followed up on him the next day, he was honest and told her everything—what he could anyway. After all, how could he relay what he didn't fully understand? She was just glad that this bizarre episode was over and they'd never see the weird girl again—as long as her own words could be trusted at least.

Gohan did keep his promise. He read the book that was now his to keep and tried to keep an open mind. He didn't quite get what the book was saying, and soon enough, as he and Videl went on to make new memories, the message of the book and the conversation with Fo were buried in the back of his mind.

It would be years before he accidentally re-discovered the book. By then, he had graduated from college, his Great Saiyaman watch had retired, and he had become a Dad. His college education, as well as the connections he'd made over the years, had given him a much more solid understanding of the world than the one he used to have, and the strings of words that used to be just words had become actual ideas that made sense to him.

Someday maybe, Fo had said. When the stars align.

It was surprising how he had missed it, all because he had been occupied with his own life. All along, the time to act was now.